What's Done, Is Done
by Servatia
Summary: Rather short scrap accompanying Saving Us: Aisling is told a secret by Leorah and just can't ignore it.


_Note: By Any Other Name / Saving Us is the story of my Tabris-Warden, the second part taking place during and after Awakening. Between the two parts I wrote this to prepare myself for one thing I was going to do. Aisling Amell, by the way, was my first warden, but here she isn't one. Long story short, I doubt if anything really terrible happens to Surana/Amell if they tell on Jowan and act on Irving's orders when going to the repository. This would be a good deal after Jowan's flight: an Amell that remained at the Tower since Duncan was busy recruiting in the alienage. Keep in mind what it says in the summary: This is just a scrap.  
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Aisling cringed under the glare Leorah gave her. 'Tell Graegoir to take a large hammer to beat the toxin extracts out of his thick head, for I sure don't have any!' she said angrily. A few people turned to stare.

'I'll do that,' Aisling said, shaking her head. 'I'll send your regards, too, right?' She was sick of it. It had been ages since _that day_, and Graegoir still kept her busy fetching things, eyeing her suspiciously every time he saw her. She told herself for the umpteenth time that she would kill Jowan herself if ever she saw him again.

'Aisling … sorry,' Leorah growled. 'Look … I'll talk with him.'

'Thanks, but I'm getting what I deserve,' Aisling replied sourly.

'There is something you should know,' Leorah continued, and something about her tone made Aisling freeze.

'They aren't going to make me tranquil after all,' she said roughly, turning back to the Senior Enchanter. 'Not now, not after all that time!' Leorah shook her head. She abandoned her post behind the large counter for a moment to stand before the younger woman.

'No, nothing like that,' she said and leaned closer. 'I shouldn't be telling you this … Graegoir is most adamant that you don't learn about his presence here … But I thought you'd want to know. Jowan is alive, and he is here. He's being kept in the templar quarters, they'll … Well, you can guess.' Aisling felt all blood leave her face, and for a moment she thought she was going to either pass out or start sobbing into Leorah's shoulder.

'I have to see him,' Aisling said. 'Please, help me to see him!' Leorah shook her head.

'No, you can't,' she said firmly. 'They'll catch you, and Graegoir is already onto you.'

'I don't care,' Aisling said urgently. 'It's _Jowan_.'

'Yes, the very one who nearly got you killed or made tranquil yourself,' Leorah said firmly. Aisling felt tears welling in her eyes. She _wanted_ to be mad at him, to hate him even, but failed. All she saw in her mind's eyes were blue puppy eyes begging for forgiveness.

'You have a brother, too, wouldn't you want to see him?' she asked. Leorah stared at her.

'Jowan isn't your …'

'He good as is!' Aisling said angrily. 'I grew up with him, damn it.'

'Keep your voice down,' Leorah said in a slightly quavery tone. 'Look … Janar is ill, so Owain is alone with the stockroom … He won't be able to handle it all by himself, tranquil or no. I'll send one of the apprentices to … distract him. What you have to get is a chantry robe and a penitent's cowl. A handful of initiates were caught stealing from the kitchen yesterday and one more wearing that hood won't attract attention. But … don't get caught, or Graegoir will hang me from the ceiling on my ankles right next to you.' Aisling hugged her and marched off.

She had always wondered why it was called a penitent's cowl and why initiates who had committed petty crimes were made to wear them, and now she knew: You could barely see, for it had no slits for eyes. All you saw was a blurry world through the knit fabric. Also, it was hot under the woollen cloth. But it was a small price to pay. And it was helpful, because a penitent wasn't allowed to talk. She wondered why this wasn't a circumstance that was exploited more often, but then again, you very rarely had some ten people wearing them at a time. Normally it was perhaps one every few months.

Aisling found Jowan's cell all right. She walked past it first, slowly, hanging her head, having to see he was actually there before she could talk to him. She watched his head rise, and stopped despite herself. 'I know you're not allowed to talk, but could you bring me a glass of water?' he asked. 'I'd rather not face Graegoir with my insides burning with thirst. Please?' Her heart constricted. Never had he sounded so defeated. She resumed walking, and Jowan lowered his head again.

Once outside of his field of vision, Aisling leaned against the wall and suppressed a sob. She oriented herself quickly - she had only passed through here on her way to the Harrowing, and there she had been escorted - and found a basin of water. Someone had left a glass there too, so she filled it and brought it back to Jowan. 'Wow, I didn't think you'd … Thank you.' He scrambled to his feet, and it looked _wrong_ somehow, even more so when walked over to her. She held the glass out to him through the bars. He drained the water greedily. 'That was kind of you,' he said. 'Maker watch over you.' Aisling stared at him. Her hands wandered up to her face and she undid the cowl to look at him properly. When she did, she felt like crying.

He was thin … He had never been on the heavy side, but now he looked just starved. His robe was too wide and bloody, and somehow she knew this was his blood, and the way he seemed to put his weight onto his left leg only … 'What did they do to you?' she whispered.

'Are you mad?' Jowan asked by means of an answer. 'Get that cowl back on and _leave_, I'm not worth it!' Something snapped in Aisling's head.

'No,' she said angrily. 'Because you're an idiot and a liar!'

'Are you expecting me to deny it?' Jowan asked with raised eyebrows. 'Or to give a "Yes, but …" apology? I know this is my fault, and I'm not complaining, am I?' Aisling deflated as quickly as she had flared up.

'Jowan … _why_?' she asked in a pained voice. She reached for his hand through the bars and pulled up his sleeve to reveal scars. 'Why did you not tell me, Jowan?' He jerked his hand back.

'You betrayed me without knowing,' he said defiantly. 'I'd already be tranquil if I'd told you.' Aisling glared at him.

'Such nonsense,' she said loudly. 'I was so hurt about your mistrust, if only you hadn't lied … I'd have helped you, any way I can. And now … What are they going to do to you?'

'I was supposed to be executed but they've changed their mind and will make me tranquil,' he replied softly. Aisling shook her head.

'Oh, Jowan,' she breathed, stepping close again and pulling him into a hug with the bars between them. 'How shall I bear to look at you like that? And … you once said it's worse than death. I'd ask if they cannot kill me instead, if I were you.'

'Do you wish me dead, Aisling?' he asked, sounding entirely sad and weary. Aisling gave a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh.

'I wish you to be free, my dearest friend,' she said emphatically.

'Listen … Aisling, hear me,' he said, suddenly a little more urgently. 'Death is final. This … I don't know, no one does but …' He fell silent. 'Look … I'll still be there.'

'Jowan, do you know something?' Aisling asked, tilting her head, suddenly suspicious. He shook his head.

'No,' he said. 'All I know is that … I have to bear the consequences for my actions. Even if that means tranquility or death.' Aisling stared at him.

'If you have any idea of a way to undo this, tell me now,' she said urgently. 'I'll try and …'

'_No_,' Jowan said desperately. 'You can't, the templars must be on to you after everything already. Don't do anything, I'm begging you. I don't want you to get hurt on my account, too.' Someone cleared his throat, and Aisling blinked up at Irving.

'That is a rather peculiar robe you are wearing,' he said calmly. 'You should leave. Graegoir is on his way to take Jowan.'

'I want to be there when they do it,' Aisling said on impulse. 'I want to … be with him.'

'I cannot allow that,' Irving said. 'The Rite of Tranquility is as secret as the Harrowing. Jowan, if you would be so kind as to hand me that glass. People might wonder who brought it.'

'Irving … can't you let him go?' Aisling asked softly, knowing the answer but unable to help herself. 'You know he doesn't deserve this, I'm begging you, let him go.'

'Aisling … Just don't forget me,' Jowan said with a pained smile. 'And … thank you for seeing me.'

'Take care to put that interesting cowl back on,' Irving reminded her when she had started to walk back, her lower lip caught firmly between her teeth and her eyes welling with tears. 'I will talk to Wynne to bring you a potion to calm you later.'

_((Author's note 2: A scrap indeed, and an idea of how I work whenever I have to deal with a limited narrative: I make scraps of what happened unseen by the mirror character, and whenever there is need for reference, I have something in my hands I can actually go back to. This little thing actually got mentioned im passing at one point of my actual story, which isn't always the case. Normally I don't keep those crutches for very long, but this one somehow remained intact and I only just found it in a weird document named "". I skimmed throught it and deemed it postable ;) I might also, when I'm finished with Saving Us or sometime in between, post something in a similar yet different tone: It will be longer, a romance and a kind of what-if AU story. But we'll see.))  
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